Long Visitation Poems
Long Visitation Poems. Below are the most popular long Visitation by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Visitation poems by poem length and keyword.
Remember how you used to skip a Stone and watch the rings appear,
to follow the sun.
Smooth as silk, that an Angel has spun.
Makes for fluid thinking when
the mind thirsts in it's ilk.
For Mother's milk.
For the Father's tidings
Binder rings
A novel read
Of your mind
Nature's Novelty
Binds you to it's juicy mystery in kind
Conjoined concentric rings following after each other.
Like thing
to
like thing.
Rings that bind to your imagination.
They capture your memory,
leaving the residue thumbprint of
the moment, there forever.
It pairs you with wisdom as you reflect in it's sightings,
Angelic visitation, moonlightings,
and transformation, solicitation.
You are your own destiny.
Your own princess or Queen. Infallible.
The lawyer of
The laws of the Urban Jungle.
It's all just science and chance,
Incident of
happenstance
accidents' technicality-
that appears and gives in your hands
nothing for nothing.
But empty plans.
But where is your place and your reason, to be.
Your body, your choice, your current, and your grand design.
Need not be
under scrutiny. Right?
The fittest survive.
Power cables to the throne.
Empowered electricity, let the bodies hit the flow. Right?
But never ask why.
You have an emptiness. You have a
reservation in your soul to an abyss. Planting dark seeds.
RSVP,
R.I.P.
the lips of Deaths kiss,
planting its spiritual AIDS,
Viral- non binary STD ( binaural beats )
Whispers of freedom from PP.
No responsibility glitters like diamonds empty and cold.
Glitters freedom
like the panning of fool's gold.
So.
Prospect those stairway caverns to the Pipers Magic Kingdom For Sale. Sold.
Sole property. Soully under, sovereign autonomy. No vacancy. No vagrancy. NoCosign. Usery. Counterfeit.
Deeds. Auction. Double blind.
Rinse. Repeat. Rewind.
A sweet young thing comes to our humble abode
Once every month without fail
Sure ain't your average cleaner type person
She zooms through the place like a gale
A neighbour once noticed she had a cute li'l bum
I told him I wholeheartedly concur
We both could wind up with marital problems
Accused of being a couple of voyeurs
Once we thought of adopting this young sweetie
But her hubby would never agree
We had to settle for her once a month visits
Such a shame between you and me
It seems I might have lost my train of thought
My engine almost left the station
To get back to the fabulous job that she does
Sure appreciate her monthly visitation
© Jack Ellison 2013
A lady of a certain age
my days are fast declining
for when did all those years go past
each day now faster than the last
Although my life is not through yet
my memories wafting back and forth
our life was full of love and wonder
with no spare time to sit and ponder
A busy pace when we were young
no time to smell the roses
and not until our autumn years
we sniffed a few before our tears
As you my love left prematurely
leaving me bereft and lonely
though I'm not ready to leave quite yet
some dreams in life are still unmet
Time runs out to smell those roses
enjoying Mother Nature’s gifts
I make each day a celebration
afore Grim Reaper’s visitation
So in the meantime one supposes
keep on smelling those fragrant roses
living my life before it disappears
I am grasping on tightly whilst
holding back the years
Written 7th May 2019
SECOND PLACE
Contest: Musical Inspiration – song Holding Back the Years by Simply Red
Sponsor: Joseph May
Contest Strand Choice J
Sponsor Brian Strand
2nd Place
My hometown is a lovely small place,
An island where I know almost every face.
It's where modern age meets old tradition.
It's a place of just enough tourist visitation.
I was born there on a clear sunny day.
I grew up there in more than one way.
Though I'm unsure I'll ever return and stay,
I always admire its beauty without any sway.
It's a place of isolation, but also of affection.
Its people have no need for any perfection.
Some do need to practise more reflection,
But we do bear the power of connection.
My hometown is surrounded by water,
An ancient, deep, wide, long river.
It is the home of my father's predecessors,
The sacred island of my recent ancestors.
One night my dear dog, a miniature Eskimo
which I’d been forced to give to a no-kill shelter a few years earlier
appeared as I slept. Waking, I saw him on my bed!
Into my arms he leapt! With joy and surprise I pressed
my face into his long white fur. I could feel him and inhale his scent.
Oh, it felt much too real to have only been a dream!
Shortly thereafter, I fell back into a dream in which
I wandered the streets with my beloved Ollyver.
I always wondered if that occurrence had been real.
I believe that we have spirits that go elsewhere when we die.
Though my experience could have been a dream inside a dream,
I prefer the explanation that because he had loved me so much,
the spirit of my little dog paid me a visit
on his way to another world, and he waits for me there even now!
Oct. 1, 2020
for "The Unexplained" Poetry Contest of Carolyn Devonshire
The small chamber, filled with gentle light,
hesitates to enter and welcome the Tuscan morning,
as if it's a long-awaited visitation.
Lucy stands being puzzled between her trained composer,
and watches the hills far ahead,
seems to find her comfort in another field,
open towards her strict inward life.
The world invites her to explore,
and pushing her to go beyond her imagination,
where her thoughts were always
bound to behave in specific ways.
The river view forces her to think about her propriety,
which is nothing but a shallow outburst
That is going to be cut out soon.
Mr. Emerson, along with the sunlight, comes to free Lucy
from her understanding of nature,
where nature is just what she chooses to acknowledge.
Everything around her is pushing her
towards the destiny she deserves.
Propriety becomes uncomfortable,
and new insights and impulses begin to replace her old beliefs.
Her suppressed desires are starting to fight back
and emerge slowly but obviously.
Charlotte cannot impose anything on her anymore.
From a rigid cage, it is not easy to be freed,
Yet she tries to move forward with
What is awaiting on the other side?
She thinks, "I question the world, therefore I am its prisoner."
She understands that trusting the fiction is therefore her sanity.
Yet she looks beyond the frames of the window,
and she discovers the view on the other side.
She becomes overwhelmed but embraces
the lantern she discovers in a quiet war.
Pray
Don't ever say nay
A day without prayer
Means you are sufficient in power
Pray
You can never tell
Your remembrance day
The lord opines to destroy enemies' antipersonnel
Pray
Your visitation day will never ring bell
For you not to fail and remain forever in cell
While the sun shines; make hay
Pray to God
It shows you are submissive
And you truly acknowledged
He is excessive
For the weapons of our warfare
To pull down strongholds
Are not carnal
But mighty in God's thresholds
We have to learn how to fight in prayer
It’s interesting when you look at scripture
Joshua sought the lord first
Before engaging in a battle to become a comer
Before Jesus chose His disciples
He spent time in prayer first
While preparing for the cross
He choose to pray till it last
What does that tell us?
Before you engage in an issue
A battle, or whatever bugaboo
Spend time in prayer prayer with God to discuss
So how do we fight?
We fight in prayer
Seeking in our prayer closet
The One who can handle anything in His power
Trust Him
Keep your faith in Him
And go to war in prayer
But never believe in your wisdom and power
HAVE YOU PRAYED TODAY?
She did not want to frighten him, for she had always loved him.
Should she appear in his dreams or next to his bed?
His eyes were closed, mouth wide open, snoring deeply.
A tiny giggle escaped; but he did not hear her.
She had never meant to leave him; surprised herself when dead.
Staring upon his closed face, she decided on a visitation dream.
He had not thought of her for almost a month when she appeared.
Her smile was brilliant, her arms outstretched.
It is you! He said, amazed that she looked so young and refreshed.
Death is life, she told him. The life you know is more of a death.
ELSE is ... and I am ... I feel
and there is THEY ... along with I
surfing change onboard a present now
cumulating beyond a was and then
bow waking a forward felt endurance
imagining time as flow through fuzzy edged space
ELSE agrees or ELSE confounds
as futures fill with will and when
conscious conversations twixt ELSE and I
merge expectations with dreaming on ...
I flicker out ... become one with ELSE
in a where-when netherverse, with no time nor space
foaming, forming fields of potential, continuous birth
ELSE is ... and I am ELSE ... I feel ...
exploring I and THEY in their time bound place
sentience caressed by curious visitation
probing intrique across a cosmos born
with child of of ELSE, a multitude of I and THEY
matter I ... and matter THEY ...
to ELSE sustained, semi-potent, dreaming on ...
632.
Meditation on the 2nd Joyful Mystery:
The Visitation
Blessed Virgin Mary came to Elizabeth, her cousin
(A blessing from the Virgin)
Both women were pregnant at that time
(What a moment sublime)
This is the 2nd Joyful Mystery – The Visitation
When Mary gave Elizabeth her greeting
(The child in her womb was leaping)
Happy, indeed, were their children
(Filled with the Spirit were both women)
The fruit of this mystery – Love of Neighbor
Oh God who had blessed those women
(Those women who were His chosen)
The God who blesses His Chosen Ones
(His blessed daughters & sons)
As “The Visitation” had shown “Love of Neighbor”
Lord God, like in “The Visitation”, we want to love our neighbor
(Teach us that way through our Savior)
Like Mary who is blessed among all women
(We want to be Thy blessed children)
Praise God! We realized “Love of Neighbor” through the 2nd Joyful Mystery.
-04/02/2019
*Meditations on the Mysteries of the Holy Rosary